


Such great heights (corresponding shapes like puzzle pieces)

by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blushing Derek Hale, Double Entendre, Embarrassment, Everybody Lives, Fluff, Flustered Derek Hale, Future Fic, I reject canon and substitute my own, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-03 01:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19453363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchmoxie/pseuds/dearericbittle
Summary: In which everyone in the pack is together and alive, because fuck canon. In which Stiles is surprised that Derek’s super hearing fails him. He just wants to know how tall Derek is, why is that such a big deal?





	Such great heights (corresponding shapes like puzzle pieces)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deby_the1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deby_the1/gifts).



> iMDB saved my life with these heights. I did not remember Isaac being that tall! 
> 
> Based on a prompt from deby_the1

Pack nights are always really fucking weird, but this is definitely up there. 

They haven’t gotten everyone together in a while, but now that the college-aged majority of the pack is home for the summer, the weekly pack nights have been reinstated. And because everyone is lazy and bored, topics tend to get… random. 

Jackson is in BH for the summer, joined by Ethan, as usual. And since Jackson’s ego (particularly related to his so-called good looks) is one of the few things about him that have not settled down over the years, he is currently posturing and puffing up his chest. And he’s lying. He is totally lying. 

“You are not 5’11”, dickweed,” Stiles has to vehemently disagree. “You are clearly Scott’s height, not mine. Your boyfriend is taller than you, deal with it.” 

Any second now this was going to turn into a dick measuring contest, and while Stiles is totally into dick - and totally out now too - there are some things he’s not interested in watching. He’s seen more than enough of Jackson’s dick - back when they both played lacrosse. Jackson was never body-shy.

“ _ Your _ boyfriend is taller than you,” Jackson pouts, a temper tantrum not too far away.

Stiles flips him off, because he has never told Jackson about his stupid crush, but the asshole figured it out anyway, and he is using it to make fun of him - has been for ages, but he doesn’t usually do that with Derek right there in the room with him. 

Bridge too far! 

Though Derek isn’t really listening to anything they are saying, so maybe he has not made the connection yet. He hasn’t for the past year of Stiles positively reeking of arousal and warm eagerness whenever they’re in the same room together (honestly, he’s not a teenager anymore, what the fuck is up with his dick). So maybe he won’t suddenly make the connection now. 

It’s probably not fair to Derek that Stiles is so scared of him finding out - they’re better now, they both are. The antagonism is friendly now, they have each other’s backs. They are basically bi buddies - bidies? 

But since Derek hasn’t noticed the boyfriend comment - and Stiles would have noticed if Derek had noticed and shut up that makes total sense - he might as well get him involved in the conversation somehow. Seriously, he still broods too damn much. 

“So, Derek, how big are you, really?” Derek startles at the mention of his name. “I know macho guys like you usually give yourself an extra inch or so, but you can’t be that much bigger than me. I’ve looked, like, a lot, but I’m getting a lot of inconclusive data. And there’s not exactly anyone else I can ask.” 

Wait, is Derek actually blushing? What the hell was he thinking about before Stiles forcefully dragged him from his daydreaming? He kinda wants to know, but he sure as hell does not want to ask in front of all his idiot children. 

Erica calls him Mommy once (five) times and everyone picks up on it. He doesn’t hate it - masculinity is not a thing he is particularly concerned with these days - but Derek usually gets super weird about it, so Stiles tries not to discuss it in front of him. Not that the kids ever listen to him - not like they do with Pack Dad Derek. 

(Weird that Scott is the Alpha but Derek is the Dad everyone listens to.)

“Stiles!” Yep, Derek is still blushing. 

“What?” Stiles has no idea what is going on here, but he is fucking dying to know. “Dude, I know you hoard any personal info about yourself like you’re Smaug with his damn treasure, but this is ridiculous. I’m just asking how big you are.” 

Hehe, that sounds like a dirty joke, that’s great. Though he’d love to know how big Derek is, from personal experience. Anyway...

Derek is such a secret geek, he totally likes that Hobbit reference. Stiles knows things, okay - he was there for Derek’s rant about bullshit Legolas storylines and random love triangles. One of many, many geeky rants he’s overheard over the years that just made him fall even harder for the person grumpy Sourwolf grew into over the past few years. The man has really gotten his shit together, and that turns him the fuck on. 

Not when the man can’t look him in the eye, though. “Not in front of the pack.” 

“Do you want to have your little measuring contest in private?” Erica is surprisingly gleeful about that. 

Clearly Erica is also taking it to the naughty places, as usual. 

Derek doesn’t actually say anything, but it is obvious to everyone that he would much rather talk about this with just Stiles. Which is, this is just about his height, for fuck’s sake! Privacy laws or rules or whatever it is that is keeping him from saying anything? All bullshit when it comes to sharing vitals. 

It’s not like they’re asking him for anything secret or important. He really thought that Derek was better at this shit by now. 

“You are a ridiculous human being,” he wants to be frustrated, but the fondness somehow always shines through. 

“Not human,” Derek grins at him. 

That sight still knocks him the fuck back, because he remembers when Derek hardly ever smiled. He remembers when the sarcastic mockery of a grin was all they got - a lot of sass and eye rolls and no happiness at all. So seeing actually amused Derek with nothing held back - that makes him all soft and gooey. 

Which is a one-eighty from what Derek usually does to him. 

“Okay, big guy,” he has to roll his eyes at the nickname. 

He drags Derek off, even though having him in another room is not going to keep the other wolves from overhearing everything they say. But sometimes Sourwolf actually gets a little shy and blush-y and Stiles is just going to indulge that. Because it’s adorable, that’s why. 

Though he is not reminding Derek that almost everyone can hear whatever he says. He’s still Mischief, after all. 

“Does this mean you’ll show instead of tell?” He wags his eyebrows at Derek, trying to gauge his height by standing way too close. 

Derek is taller than him, he knows that much. But how much taller? An inch or two, maybe, if that. He’s never tried to measure, but Derek has always felt so much taller than him. That is just a matter of presence, because Derek is broad and strong and has spent a lot of time growling at people. He has a very intimidating presence. 

Stiles? Does not. 

“Tell me tell me tell me,” he prods Derek. “Pretty please?”

He is totally the favorite, and he’s trying not to read into that too much, because wishful thinking is a dick like that. Still, though, there is no way that someone else would be getting an answer out of Derek - just Stiles. So maybe it does mean something. 

“Seven, okay?” Derek finally speaks up, saying something completely baffling. “About seven inches, give or take. No pun intended. Though I have no idea why you think that is something the entire pack needs to know.” 

The laughing from next door doesn’t start immediately, but it does start a hot second before Stiles figures out what the fuck Derek is talking about. 

And when he does, holy shit. He can’t not look down - is he trying to catch a glimpse, develop X-ray vision, or both? He doesn’t know. Both sounds good, though. 

“Stop staring,” Derek growls at him. 

“How can I not?” Stiles knows he’s flustered, but Derek has got it worse. “You should know how my brain works by now. I’m gonna be remembering this at the most inopportune times for at least a month, or possibly the rest of my life.”

Even the tips of Derek’s ears are red, and that leaves Stiles trying so hard not to comment on how adorable that is - because Derek can still lash out if he feels embarrassed. Even if he doesn’t lash out, he will absolutely avoid Stiles until he feels like they’re on equal footing again. Which will usually take about five seconds because Stiles knows no shame and embarrasses everyone (including himself) quite easily. 

But right now Derek is embarrassed enough for the both of them, because… 

Holy shit, he knows the size of Derek’s dick. The double D. The… Nope, he really should not be going there - even though his thoughts refuse to be steered. He cannot look away from Derek’s crotch, not even by thinking of the rest of the pack sitting in the other room hearing everything that he says. Everything that Derek says. Every bit of embarrassed conversation, all about Derek’s dick. 

The same dick he swears he can see the outline of in Derek’s very tight jeans. Any movement he thinks he spots there is probably wishful thinking, though. 

Stiles finally looks up again at the soft hiss of Derek’s breath. It would be a gasp if Derek wasn’t worried about the pack overhearing it, he is sure of that. 

“Tall,” Derek’s eyes widen. “You just wanted to know how tall I am, didn’t you?”

There is more laughter from next door, loud enough that even Stiles can hear it. Derek is going to hear about this moment for years to come, because that is how rare this opportunity is to the pack. Derek simply does not get flustered like this. 

“I did,” Stiles acknowledges, smiling helplessly. “About six feet tall, I’m guessing?” 

Derek just nods, because anything he says in response is just giving the rest of the pack more ammunition, and they already have plenty. 

“Yeah I figured you and Jordan would be roughly the same height,” Stiles continues to talk to give Derek time to compose himself. “Not the tallest, though, because that’s clearly Boyd. By a long shot. Sorry, you’ve lost your surly giant title a long time ago. I’m not nearly as young and impressionable as I was back then.”

That makes Derek huff out a laugh, which is hidden the second he figures out that Stiles has noticed his amusement. Because he’s a competitive asshole - which is just one of the many things Stiles likes about him. It’s a real problem. 

“Isaac is almost Boyd’s height,” Derek actually tries to argue with him. 

“I guess scarves add to a person’s height,” Stiles has to take the opportunity to mock Scott’s second best friend. 

Ha, second-best. Suck it, Isaac! Stiles will always win!

Derek just gives him that super judgmental look, which isn’t nearly as effective when he’s still more than a little flushed with embarrassment. And the fact that Stiles is also trying not to look down at all that Derek’s hiding in his pants (all seven inches of it)... Well that certainly is adding a whole new layer of tension to this interaction. 

“Stiles,” Derek says in more of a whine than a growl. 

“What?” He can’t lie, but he sure as hell can play innocent. 

Even though he probably reeks of arousal by now, and Derek is just too polite to tell him how badly he is stinking up the room. He wasn’t actually raised by wolves after all, and he is much better than Scott at keeping the things he smells to himself. 

“What are you doing in there?” Scott shouts, sounding particularly outraged. 

Case in point. Clearly Scott is smelling things and drawing his own, completely erroneous, conclusions. Shit, for once he wishes Scott was right about something - and he so rarely is. 

“Derek’s bending me over the table and taking me hard,” Stiles knows there should be a blip in his heartbeat as he says that, but it’s still funny as hell. “It’s the next stop in the show and tell. Do you wanna keep listening? I know my exhibitionist kink is well-noted, but I didn’t think you were one of us.”

That should embarrass Scott into either leaving or focusing on something he thinks is less embarrassing. He still can’t manage to tune it out completely though, so it sounds like Scott leaving is the most likely option. 

And so he waits, because Derek clearly isn’t ready to go back to the group yet. He might not be ready for a while, and while he would love it if they spent that time doing something related to the bending over the table bit, he is more realistic than that. This time. Right now, anyway. For about half a second. 

“You know Erica is still listening, right?” Stiles winks at Derek. 

“Of course she is,” the sigh of a weary Pack Dad escapes. 

Yeah, he probably should be trying to distract Derek from the rest of the pack, but he’s an asshole and can never resist a good joke. And when Derek gets all riled up he seems to forget about whatever self imposed distance he’s been keeping between the two of them. Stiles has never dared to ask him about that, but he has been goading Derek into a lot of pointless bickering in order to get close to him. 

That pathetic crush certainly is not going away. Especially not because Erica says something that makes Derek blush even more vividly, and Stiles finds himself unable to look away, even though he has no idea just what Erica said to Derek. 

And to anyone else who is still around and listening to them. Privacy is hard to find when you’re running with actual wolves. Or well, werewolves. 

“Alright, enough embarrassment,” he announces, knowing the wolves will be able to hear him very clearly. “Unless you want to hear me compliment Derek here on his size, all up close and personal like.” 

The innuendo is purposeful, because most of the pack gets surprisingly immature about sex when their pseudo-pack dad is involved. They really haven’t changed much since the awkward teenage years - not like Stiles likes to think he has. 

At least it’ll get them to stop making fun of Derek for a little while. 

“Fucking finally,” Erica shouts, ostensibly on her way out.

Oh, fuck. They believed him. 

He looks at Derek, trying to gauge his response, because he needs to know if Derek believes him too. He will probably just write it off as a joke. But what if he doesn’t?

What if Derek believes him? What happens then?

Does Stiles even want him to believe it? Depends on the response, really. He really doesn’t want to fuck up the friendship they’ve painstakingly managed to build over the years. And Derek doesn’t owe him more just because Stiles has once again managed to fall for someone who is never going to reciprocate - no matter what happened between him and Lydia, she never had the same feelings for him that he did for her. And that was just one of the things that ruined them. 

Not the point though. The point is that he is once again an idiot, and the point is that Derek is not saying anything, still. He’s barely even looking at him. That is usually not a good thing. 

“I know you’re embarrassed, big guy,” Stiles has to break the silence, because that’s basically his life’s calling. “But you were super distracted - which is unlike you. What the hell were you thinking about? Do we have bad people coming? Is there more pack drama? Do you miss Cora?” 

He can’t not talk when there’s an awkward silence to conquer, because at least talking might keep him distracted from the way that the tips of Derek’s ears are still red. It’s just such a distracting sight, and Stiles is only human. 

“You,” is all Derek says. 

“Me what?” Stiles feels like he missed a couple steps here. “Me Stiles. You Derek.” 

It sounds just like the growled statements he used to get from Derek back when they first met - except Derek has always been more sassy than that. Short and to the point? Sure. But the sass was always there, at least in his facial expressions. 

“I was thinking about you,” Derek mumbles. 

Stiles does not have superhuman hearing, but he is damn well trying his best because this is so much better than anything he imagined. Derek thinking of him and admitting it? He’s going to remember this when he’s home alone with his porn. 

“Anything in particular?”

Wow, does he suck at trying to be cool. He is completely unable to play it cool in any kind of way, and Derek should know that by now and just put him out of his misery and onto that seven inch - okay, no, bad brain. That is super distracting. 

“You keep looking,” Derek just sounds pained. 

“Of course,” Stiles cringes as his voice cracks on the words. “I have to process this information somehow, since I am not going to forget it as long as I live. And I plan on living to a ripe old age. Somewhere around ninety, hopefully. Barring supernatural emergencies.” 

Once again, babbling, because he can’t stop thinking about Derek’s dick and this is actually going to kill him. It’s not just a chafing issue - or a future chafing issue. 

Not helping. Not helping at all. 

“Stiles,” Derek can smell exactly where his mind takes him. 

“I know you don’t want to be smelling this,” Stiles is the embarrassed one this time. “And I’m usually a lot better at not getting my feelings all over you, but my mind has been blown and I’m just trying to put the pieces back together.” 

That makes Derek look up, acting like he’s actually surprised. Which is just stupid because this is a born werewolf who has been able to sniff out Stiles’ every errant thought since he was a perpetually horny teenager. He can’t not know. 

“Feelings?” Derek’s eyebrows are worth a thousand words. “You asshole!” 

“I’m an asshole?” Stiles is just offended. “I’m not the one with the superhuman senses that can be used to sniff out my embarrassing feelings for you. You could have said something ages ago. Or done something. No protests here.” 

And then he just stands still, challenging Derek, because he is sure as hell not going to make it easy for him. No way, no how. Derek is going to have to make the first move here, because he is still at least thirty percent convinced that he is hallucinating. 

Someone pinch him - or someone let him pinch Derek’s ass. That would work. 

“Fine,” Derek growls like the drama queen he pretends not to be. “You win.” 

He drags Stiles to him, pressing all six muscled feet of his body against Stiles’ before kissing all the confusion out of him. The kiss is all teeth and wet and frustration at first, until it suddenly gentles. 

Because feelings. Because Derek Hale has feelings for him. 

Stiles grins into the kiss, which makes it a bit more difficult. 

“Too smug, Stiles,” Derek warns. 

“Please, I have a lot to be smug about,” he reaches around to pinch that glorious ass he’s been dreaming off for years. Like seven inches of smug. Give or take.” 

That earns him a dramatic eye roll from Derek. But Stiles has figured it out now - Derek is a cuddly puppy who is adorable when flustered. 

So making Derek blush has become his new mission in life. Not in front of the pack, of course, he is not that much of a dick, but when it’s just them… He is absolutely going to see how far down that blush goes. 

After he sends Jackson a gift basket. Because for once, that douchebag’s inadequacy issues have actually paid off. 


End file.
